


Enchanting To Meet You

by sandwastesinthevoidofmychest



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Don't copy to another site, First Meetings, First Time, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rimming, Soft Smut Sunday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest/pseuds/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest
Summary: After two years of speaking via phone, it's finally time that Mycroft and Greg get to meet in real life.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Comments: 13
Kudos: 210
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	Enchanting To Meet You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by tumblr's @softsmutsunday's prompt for this week, which was 'enchant'. 
> 
> It immediately took my brain back to T Swift's 'Enchanted' even though I could no longer remember the lyrics.   
> That's where the title came from though. :') 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy <3

Mycroft’s standing near the door out onto the balcony when he sees him.

He’s merely biding his time until he can slip out unnoticed, having already talked to the necessary people. 

It’s then that Gregory Lestrade walks into the hall, an hour and a half late, with a suit that’s clearly been put on in a rush after coming back from a crime scene. 

Mycroft forgets how to breathe, just for a few seconds. 

This is the nearest he’s ever been to the man in the time he’s known him. 

Two long years. 

Tonight is meant to end that.

Greg is greeted by the event organiser, and as he’s handed a glass of champagne and introduced to people as the representative from Scotland Yard, there’s some laughter that Mycroft guesses is because of his tardiness. 

He can hear Greg’s voice in his mind, effortlessly pointing out that crimes don’t really care about timing. 

Greg’s smile in real life is astonishing, it lights his face, makes him look less tired. 

It’s almost enchanting to see it first-hand, he’s only ever seen a rare smile over CCTV, but nothing ever like this. 

Mycroft has talked to Greg over the phone, seen him over CCTV, the odd televised press conference. Sometimes they text.

But they have never met. 

Until tonight.

* * *

_20:13] Don’t you dare leave._

_20:14] Who said I was leaving? -MH_

_20:16] I know you, you’re probably watching the clock considering when it’ll be ‘proper’ to leave._

_20:17] And where are you, may I ask?- MH_

_20:19] Stuck in fucking traffic. Cabbie says twenty minutes at the least._

_20:20] I’m certain I can manage twenty more minutes. -MH_

_20:22] Waited two years to see your face, Mycroft. You bloody better._

_20:23] Bossy. I’ll be standing where we discussed. -MH_

* * *

From where he stands, Mycroft can see the tension in Greg’s shoulders as he’s introduced to various people who helped organise this function, others that have been in charge of fundraising for it. He’s even pulled into a photograph for the papers. 

Mycroft watches as Greg’s eyes dart around the room, his smile becoming more strained as he’s drawn into more conversation. 

Mycroft can’t keep his eyes off the man. There’s been so many near meetings in the last two years that were never followed through, their schedules always conflicting. Mostly, it’s been Mycroft’s fault: He’s been out of the country at least every two weeks, and he's been terrified that Greg wouldn't want him in person. 

Yet, they’ve gotten to know each other, to _trust_ each other. 

It’s been like a long-distance relationship. There’s been flirting, confessions, phone sex. 

But tonight is meant to change everything. 

Mycroft watches as Greg manages to excuse himself from conversation, laughing nervously in response to whatever is said. 

He walks towards the door to the balcony, eyes wide and curious. 

When a woman blocking his view of Mycroft moves, Greg’s eyes meet Mycroft’s and Mycroft swears that his heart skips a beat at the pure unconcealed delight that lights up Greg’s face; his eyes shine and his smile could guide ships home in a storm. 

Mycroft is transfixed. Rooted to the spot. 

“Mycroft Holmes.” Greg’s voice, always pleasing over the phone is even better in real life. The whole man is better in real life, Mycroft’s brain points out. “You bloody beauty.” 

Mycroft feels the intense heat of the blush in his cheeks, that he couldn’t possibly prevent. 

“Gregory.” He murmurs, “You are...exquisite.”

Greg seems to notice the stares from people around them, so he holds out his hand to Mycroft. 

“Incredibly nice to meet you, Mr Holmes.” 

Mycroft takes Greg’s hand, holding it tight, silently rejoicing in the warmth of the other man’s skin. “Enchanté, Detective Inspector Lestrade.”

Greg’s grin is enough to take years off Mycroft’s life. He steps closer to Mycroft, satisfied that less people are staring. “You booked a room?” Greg whispers. 

Mycroft swallows, cursing the blush in his cheeks. He nods evenly. “Room 160. There’s a spare key at reception for you.”

“Great. I left my overnight bag at the reception. You go first, I’ll follow?” Greg’s gorgeous brown eyes are like pools of chocolate that Mycroft could bathe in. They never once leave his face, clearly intently memorising every centimetre of Mycroft’s skin, eyes, focusing on his lips. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Is all Mycroft can manage. 

Greg nods, a wicked smile for just a fraction of a second, just enough for only Mycroft to see. “Can’t wait to get you out of those clothes.”

Mycroft’s pulse thuds in his ears, as he gets the elevator to _their_ room. 

If he’s being truly honest with himself, he didn’t expect Greg to find him attractive in person. 

After all, he’d only ever seen Mycroft on rare video calls. 

But the memory of Greg eagerly cataloguing all his features was enough to send a fire running through his veins. His hand shakes as he slots the keycard into the door. 

Once he gets inside the quiet room, he finally manages to breathe. 

Mycroft has opened the bottle of champagne that had been provided for both of them, set out the two glasses and started to sip his own. 

His hands shake with nerves, and he feels presumptuous for laying out condoms and lube, even though Greg had instructed him to. 

He sits in one of the armchairs by the window, watching the door. His heart rate spikes every time he hears footsteps in the hallway. 

The low thrum of arousal runs through his body, he imagines he can feel the phantom touch of Greg’s fingers on his skin, and he shivers at the thought. 

Mycroft’s almost finished his glass of champagne by the time he hears Greg’s key in the door. He stands, shaking slightly as Greg walks in. 

The way that the resulting smile spreads across Greg’s face once he meets Mycroft’s gaze makes Mycroft weak. He’s never felt so... _desired._

Greg drops his bag on the floor and crosses the room in the blink of an eye. 

Mycroft easily falls into Greg’s hold. Greg pulls him into an embrace and Mycroft finds himself gripping the back of Greg’s suit jacket. 

Greg presses a kiss to Mycroft’s cheek, then nuzzles into his neck. Mycroft’s hand trails up the back of Greg’s neck and into his hair, tugging gently. Greg moves to look at Mycroft, understanding the unsaid so easily that it makes Mycroft dizzy. 

Greg watches him in silence, a content smile on his face. “And you were afraid that I wouldn’t want you in real life?” 

Mycroft blushes again, this time out of shame. He ducks his head, only to have Greg raise it again with gentle fingers on his chin. “Myc.” He whispers once Mycroft meets his eyes again. “You’re bloody gorgeous. Perfect. Let me show you, yeah?” 

Mycroft can only nod, leaning in to kiss the other man. 

Their first kiss is soft, the press of Greg’s lips against his. The warmth around them. How Greg caresses his cheek before leading him into a deeper kiss. 

The kisses are exploratory, intent. Mycroft can’t help but moan softly when he tastes Greg, clutching onto his arms, pulling him impossibly closer. 

He’s never been kissed like this. 

Mycroft daringly slots a leg between Greg’s, both humming in approval when it becomes achingly clear they’re both hard. 

“Three-piece suits?” Greg murmurs, his lips are swollen as they watch Mycroft, pupils blown wide. 

Mycroft nods, “Mostly.” 

“Christ, you’re like a present to unwrap.” Greg leads Mycroft into another kiss, eager and heated as he begins to work on the buttons to Mycroft’s waistcoat. 

Greg easily pushes Mycroft’s jacket and waistcoat onto the floor. His tie is undone in mere seconds, Greg’s eyes trail Mycroft’s body, nothing but want written on his features. 

“D’you know how much I’ve fantasised about this?” He whispers, unbuttoning Mycroft’s shirt, groaning when he sees exposes Mycroft’s pale skin to the dimmed light of the room. His hands trace his skin gently, leaning in to press a kiss to Mycroft’s neck. 

“I believe,” Mycroft struggles to form a coherent sentence, “You’ve told me quite a bit.” 

Greg’s husky laugh makes Mycroft’s cock throb in his trousers. “Oh darlin’, haven’t told you the half of it.” 

Greg ensures that Mycroft is naked before he touches his own clothes. He nearly drops to his knees when he finally sees Mycroft’s cock; long and hard, and straining against his stomach. 

Reading Greg’s intent, he catches him by the arm. “I need you naked, Gregory. Desperately.” 

Greg moans, taking Mycroft’s hands and placing them on the buttons of his shirt, while he rids himself of his trousers and boxers. 

“ _Fuck._ ” Mycroft whispers when he gets his first glimpse of Greg’s thick cock, imagining what it will feel like inside him. 

Greg grins across at him, reading him easily. “Yeah?” 

Mycroft can only nod enthusiastically, “Please.”

“Bed, darlin’.” 

This is not just sex, Mycroft’s mind kindly supplies for the brief few seconds that he can form a coherent thought. 

Greg had trailed kisses down his body, endless sounds of contentment ensued, Mycroft could only hold him, run his fingers through his hair, anything to keep close. 

Now, he’s lying on his stomach amongst the pillows, moaning desperately as Greg carefully licks him open. His whole body shakes, reacting to every little touch. 

He’s never had this done to him before, and he’s ecstatic that Greg is the first to do so. 

Greg’s hands never stop roaming, never stop stroking sensitive skin, they hold him open with a reverence that Mycroft has never experienced. 

Mycroft curls his hands into the duvet, trying to keep still, but he’s aware he sounds more desperate with every second. 

Greg places a kiss at the base of Mycroft’s spine, and Mycroft can’t help but whine at the sudden loss of sensation.

“Fingers?” Greg whispers. 

Mycroft can only nod, and is surprised when Greg turns him around. “One sec, wanna kiss you.” 

Greg fetches his hold-all and goes to the bathroom, where Mycroft can hear the sound of him brushing his teeth. 

Mycroft’s erection aches and he tentatively strokes himself, groaning in relief. 

“Oh fuck yes.” Greg’s standing in the doorway to the en-suite, watching Mycroft intently. 

Mycroft’s momentarily taken aback by the sheer heat in Greg’s gaze. 

Greg comes back to the bed, leaning over Mycroft, pulling him into a minty kiss. 

Mycroft hears the click of the lid for the lube, but doesn’t focus on it, too intent on holding Greg close, trailing his skin. 

“Relax, love.” Spoken without breaking the kiss is his only warning. Greg’s fingers are warm and careful, and Mycroft can’t help the shout he lets out when Greg brushes against his prostate. 

“Please.” Mycroft manages against Greg’s lips, “Fuck me.” 

Greg watches him intently as he eases his way into Mycroft’s body, making sure there’s no discomfort on Mycroft’s face. “Fucking gorgeous, Myc. So gorgeous.” 

Mycroft moans, feeling full and safe for the first time in his life, he reaches out to Greg and moans as Greg bottoms out. Greg leans down, letting Mycroft gather him in his arms. He presses kisses to Mycroft’s cheeks, nose, forehead as he starts to move slowly and evenly. 

“Love you, darlin’.” He whispers into Mycroft’s ear. “Told you before, I’ll tell you again.” 

Mycroft can’t help the smile on his face, tears of happiness in his eyes as he holds Greg to him. 

If he hadn’t been so afraid, they could have been doing this the last two years. 

“I love you too.” Mycroft murmurs. 

He’s said it over the phone and over text, but it’s eternally more powerful in person. 

Sated, they lie in each other’s arms. Greg’s hands still caress every inch of Mycroft’s body, and Mycroft rests his head on Greg’s chest, listening to the even thud of Greg’s heart, he trails his fingers through Greg’s chest hair, tangling their legs together. 

Greg presses another kiss to Mycroft’s forehead. “Darlin’?” 

“Hm?” 

“Come home with me tomorrow, once we wake up. Yeah?” 

Mycroft lifts his head, so he can meet Greg’s gaze. “Of course...I would love to.”

Greg’s responding smile dazzles. “Finally get you in my bed.” He whispers. “Let me kiss every inch of you. Didn’t pay nearly enough attention to those freckles tonight.” 

“You’re a wonder.” 

Greg’s laughter is like music to Mycroft’s ears. “I love you, Mycroft. In person. Let me show you.”

Mycroft draws Greg into a lazy kiss, caressing his cheek, feeling the stubble. He hums happily, “Only if you allow me to show you how much I love you too.” 

“My absolute pleasure.” Greg whispers, pulling Mycroft into another kiss, this time Mycroft can feel Greg’s smile against his lips and with that, he’s Greg’s now. 

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @lostallsenseof1  
> tumblr: @lostallsenseofcontrol


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